My Soul In Your Hands
by Maknatuna
Summary: Castiel misses Dean after the older Winchester has turned into a demon and he goes to the barn where they first met. Little did the angel know what awaited him there. Set in season 10.


**A/N I don't know maybe the site has screwed up again but some of my friends told me they have not received the update notification for Under The Falling Skies. I posted chapter 15 a few days ago if you have not seen it.**

Beta'd by Zana Zira. Thank you!

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Castiel's fingers touch the walls of an old, almost completely ruined barn. This is the place where his and Dean's first meeting had happened.

The walls are still soaked with all the memories of that glorious event, making the angel's fingertips tingle from the vibrations. His dying grace absorbs those precious moments from the stone walls, reviving and keeping them safe in the farthest corner of Castiel's exhausted mind.

"Dean…" Castiel murmurs, gliding his hand over the wall, smiling sadly. "How I wish the circumstances were different and I could see you again."

A chilling wind blows, rattling whatever's left of the torn-off roof. Cold sneaks into the barn, tossing some dead leaves into Castiel's face.

"I miss you so much," the ex-angel whispers, fighting the overwhelming emotions he's going through.  
"Is that so?" a deep, raspy voice asks and Castiel whirls around with his heart pounding heavily in his chest.  
A smirking Dean Winchester - or the creature the man has become - is staring at him with his arms folded on his chest.

Before Castiel can react, Dean teleports himself, appearing right in front of the confused angel and trapping the blue-eyed man between himself and the wall of the barn.

"What… what are you doing here?" Castiel rasps out, trying not to show his anxiety.

"Just wanted to see how one fool angel was doing," the Knight of Hell murmurs, nipping at the angel's earlobe.

"How did you find me?" Castiel asks, not hiding his surprise.

"I knew you would come to this place. I know you too well," Dean purrs seductively. His hand moves from the wall to Castiel's neck, caressing the angel's flesh tenderly.

"Get. Away. From. Me!" Castiel's voice shakes and breaks. He tries to push the demon's hand away but in vain. Dean chuckles throatily and his green eyes flash black, earning a tiny gasp from the angel.

"What's the matter, angel? Afraid of the dark?" Dean smirks lopsidedly. "Yeah, that's right. You should be."

In the blink of an eye Castiel's hands are pinned to the wall above his head. The angel's fading grace can't help him break the invisible chains and it's terrifying. Castiel feels his blood turn into ice from growing fear and panic. He pants and struggles but nothing comes of it.

"Stop fighting, Cas. You're powerless and at my mercy." Dean's fingertips trace the lines of the angel's parted lips.

"Dean, please stop. You don't want to do this!" The angel tries to convince the demon how wrong it all seems.

"I don't? You are so wrong." Dean smiles. "I've been wanting to do this for years but I was a coward. Now when I finally have a chance, I'm gonna use it. And don't pretend you don't want it. I can see through you."

The First Blade in Dean's hand easily cuts the white fabric of Castiel's shirt, revealing what's underneath.  
Dean's hand caresses the angel's skin, teasing it with slow rubs and barely-there touches. His fingertips slide from Castiel's abdomen to his nipples, squeezing them slightly, rubbing and pinching 'till they are fully erect. The Knight of Hell's hand continues its journey southwards, following the light line of hair, sliding and disappearing behind the angel's black slacks.

"Look at you, all hot and bothered." Dean lets out a small laugh when he feels Castiel's wetness on his fingers.

At this point the angel is breathing heavily and licking his dried lips. Lust and desire spread their roots through his body, the cloud of want and need quickly covering and enveloping his mind.

"Dean…" Castiel moans and bucks his hips unwillingly into the demon's fist around his hard cock.

"What? What do you want, tell me!" Dean's kisses on Castiel's neck become bolder, sending electric chills down the angel's spine.

"Kiss me… Please…" Castiel closes his eyes, feeling ashamed of his weakness, as he feels blush coloring his face.

"You look adorable when you blush." The Knight of Hell chuckles.

Castiel feels the burning heat of hellfire when Dean covers his mouth with his and he wonders if the universe has really gone mad, as he's not smote right there and then while kissing the abomination.

Dean's hands work fast, unbuckling Castiel's belt and pushing his pants and boxers down. The demon grabs the handfuls of the smaller man's ass, squeezing them hard and hums contented when the angel's leaking cock leaves dark spots on his purple shirt.

"You want it so bad, don't you?" Surprisingly Dean's voice does not sound mocking. He grabs the angel's chin, lifting it up. "Tell me."

Castiel swallows hard and looks in the demon's eyes. His blue eyes that used to flash thunder and lightning, enlightened by the celestial power now look lackluster, grace rapidly fading and it hurts. It hurts so much that the dark and twisted soul of the creature who used to be the older Winchester is shaken to the core.

"You are dying, Cas," Dean says directly, without sweetening the pill.

"I know."

The demon falls silent for a while, studying the face of the exhausted man before him. Finally he breaks the silence.

"What I wouldn't give to fuck you against that wall, so hard and rough that you wouldn't be able to walk for weeks, but if I do that, you will die. Your grace is vanishing and it will not be able to resist my demonic might. If I take you, you will simply burst into flames."

Dean's eyes go wide when he catches the slightest smile ghosting on Castiel's lips and the realization slaps him hard in the face.

"You knew didn't you? And this is what you want. You want to die in my hands."  
"Do it." Castiel's voice is hoarse when he speaks. "Dean, please."

"No."

Castiel lets out a frustrated, almost inaudible whine. He knows that there is no help for him and it's the matter of days 'til his grace finally dies out and someone finds enormous black shadows of his wings seared onto the ground. So maybe it would've been better if he'd died in Dean's hands. But no, he can't have that luxury either.

The train of his bitter thoughts derails when Dean's fist clenches around his neglected cock.

"I said I couldn't fuck you but I didn't say we couldn't have a little fun. It won't kill you."

As the demon starts stroking the angel's flesh with slow and precise touches, Castiel's quiet moans become louder and frequent, as the blue-eyed man starts to thrust into Dean's fist, bucking his hips wildly. He tries to cling to the demon's body, seeking comfort and whimpers when his invisible bonds prevent him from doing so.

"Oh, my apologies, angel," Dean chuckles and Castiel's restraints disappear. The angel's limp body slumps against the solid frame of the Knight of Hell. His hands grab the demon's shoulders, while he trembles and shivers under Dean's sweet and delirious ministrations.

Each of his moans praise and thank the demon for the burning pleasure his hand brings to his needy body. How he wishes to dissolve into the gentle and unexpected warmth of Dean's touches.

Castiel's orgasm is blinding and deafening. The surroundings lose their shape and colors; the universe cracks and shatters into pieces like a broken mirror. As seconds or maybe minutes pass, its pieces fall on the ground. The only thing Castiel can feel before he sinks into comforting oblivion is his hot semen splashing over Dean's fist, which is milking the angel through his powerful release.

Dean smiles while looking down at Castiel's unconscious body in his hands. He's smiling but it's not a happy smile. It's mournful and bitter. Who knows what Castiel has gone through while he partied with Crowley, drank and banged random chicks at shitty motels.

The Knight of Hell pulls the angel's pants and boxers up, rearranging Castiel's clothes. Dean looks around, trying to find a clean spot on the dirty floor. There is some straw in one of the corners and the demon walks towards it, carrying the still unconscious angel like an infant in his arms.

Dean carefully lays Castiel on the straw, heaving a sigh. He buttons the angel's trench coat, so he does not feel cold. The demon is pretty sure that Castiel's grace won't be able to keep him warm and he takes his leather jacket off, covering the sleeping man with it.

"You need it more than I do, Cas," he huffs. "You know that I can't stay, right?" Dean says, his voice full of sorrow. "Keep the jacket, like I kept your stupid trench coat once."

For a few more minutes Dean just stares down at the sleeping angel. Then he slowly leans towards the smaller man's face and plants a lingering, gentle kiss on Castiel's lips.

"Look after yourself, you fool."

The Knight of Hell walks out of the barn, the First Blade held tight in his hand. He turns around towards the barn and mumbles strange words under his breath, casting a spell on the building so no angel, demon, or any supernatural creature can find and attack the man he still cares about.

Before getting into the Impala, Dean looks up at the sky. His eyes flash black and his frown deepens as he tries to see beyond the night skies.

"Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch! I will find you and rip your heart out if you do not give Cas his grace back. And pray that he's still alive when I find you. You hear me? I'm coming for you!"

The chilly wind blows again, bringing the melody of Waking The Demon from the distance. Someone, like him, is in a killing mood.

Dean shakes his head at the coincidence, then throws his head back and bursts into dark, frightening laughter.

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